


fools in love

by wuwu



Series: davekats [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Albino Dave Strider, Fluff, Humanstuck, Kissing, Lazy Mornings, M/M, POV Second Person, POV Third Person, Soft Chara, im projecting lol, karkat is so soft and gay u dont even know, kind of humanstuck and highschool but not much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-04 06:27:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14586954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wuwu/pseuds/wuwu
Summary: Karkat Vantas is absolutely, inexplicably, irrevocably in love with Dave Strider.[chapter 1 is 2nd person pov, chapter 2 is a rewrite in 3rd person]





	1. fools in love (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your name is Karkat Vantas and you are absolutely, inexplicably, irrevocably in love with Dave Strider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i made karkat rlly sappy so if that aint ur jam my b lol

It’s quiet in his room. The blinds do nothing to dissuade the morning light from filling the room as it pours onto the covers, spilling over until it prods at your eyes and you find yourself blearily blinking away sleepiness. There’s a warmth that brings a sense of fulfillment; you’re practically brimming with contentedness. A smile graces your lips, and you peer down at the boy currently wrapping himself around you.

Platinum hair fans out over pale skin, the slightest hints of freckles peeking out between strands. The rise and fall of Dave’s chest keeps like a steady beat, and you easily keep with it. His arms are lost beneath the covers, but you can feel him atop you, holding you captive. (You think if you were his prisoner, you’d definitely have stockholm syndrome.) Your eyes flutter shut and you focus on the shifting of his legs against yours. It’s getting a bit too hot for your liking, but you push through it if only to let Dave sleep for a bit longer.

(Not because you want to memorize this moment or anything. No, if you were to do that, you’re sure that a redness would never leave your cheeks because, oh yeah, you’re so fucking _in love_.)

Relaxation doesn’t come by easy, what with countless school assignments, but when you’ve just started spring break with no assignments to keep up with? Well, that’s just heaven on earth.

(Heaven on earth is everything and anything Dave Strider, you think, but you’ve gotta tone it down sometimes.)

There’s the ringing of an alarm, and you groan as you realize Dave didn’t turn off his alerts for the week even when you told him to do it last night and you think it might be because he was trying to spite you for making him watch 50 First Dates for the fifth time. Jokes on him, though, ‘cause you were already awake.

Except he’s groaning too and pulling away from you and you regret your infatuation of spiting him for once in your life.

“Fuck this,” he mutters. Eyes shut, Dave reaches out blindly and almost knocks his phone off of his nightstand as he dismisses the alarm. When it stops blaring throughout the room, Dave sighs and scoots back over to you, draping your arm across him. “I fucking hate school.”

“Yeah, well, it’s spring break, dumbass,” you tease. “Go back to sleep.” You like the way his eyelashes flutter against his cheeks.

“Why’re you awake?” His words are a bit slurred as he leans against your chest, but you hear him well enough.

“Hey, don’t drool on me,” you scold. He shakes his head. “And your alarm woke me up, rude ass.”

“Hmmm… Liar.” Dave tilts his head up at you, and from where he lays, backlit by the rising sun pushing through shoddy window blinds, you wonder if he’s ever looked more beautiful. He always seems so ephemeral, yet here he is, day after day. His right eye opens just slightly, and you catch red as he smiles and said eye closes a little more as it crinkles with joy. “You just like to watch me sleep.”

You roll your eyes and use your hand, the one that belongs to the arm he so happens to be lying _on top_ of, and smooth down his hair awkwardly. “I like watching you wake up,” you specify. He hums.

“Voyeur.”

“Oh, shut up and go back to sleep.”

“You just totally went against what you just said literally four seconds ago.” You swat his head, and Dave laughs that angelic laugh of his that leaves you with an ache in your chest and a fluttering in your stomach.

God, you love him.

“Then wake up,” you huff, “And we’ll watch another movie or something, because I’m not letting you draw your stupid comic all day.” With a roll of your eyes, you turn your head to see if your laptop is on the floor like you vaguely remember it being.

“If I have to watch another hetero couple mack in my personal space I’m going to blow my brains out,” he says, sticking his tongue out. He peeks up at you again, and you hold your breath as his brows furrow. “Can we just be lazy today? It’s fucking spring break and I’m tired after that ass kicking I had in Precal the other day. I’ll be ready to take my tits out and do a keg stand tomorrow, so smash that notification bell so you know when to party.”

You nod slowly as he drags you closer to him, fingers reaching up to thread in your hair. Dave is careful not to tug on any of your tangles, and in return you reach your own hand under his shirt to rest on his waist. He hisses as you make contact, and you call him a baby after he whines about how cold your skin is.

As more light continues to filter in, you find yourself leaning into Dave once more. His breathing is smooth and even—a nice contrast from when you first started going out. (His breath would often hitch as you two grew closer, fingers intertwined as young boys whispered about the tragedies of the universe under a simple layer of polyester.) You gently nudge his face up, pressing kisses to his jawline and smiling when he loses himself to a sigh. You move further along and begin to make your way down his neck, lips lingering longer than necessary. You only stop when his grip in your hair tightens and his own lips part in tandem.

“Go back up,” he whispers. You throw your head back and bark out a laugh, goaded on by the eye roll Dave sends your way. “Babe.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you relent, fingers squeezing his waist, “I didn’t mean to go that far.”

“Mhmm, _okay_ ,” Dave drags out. “Now, are you gonna go back to bed, or do you want me to whip out my remastered lullaby I mixed up just for you. That cow’s gonna jump over the fuckin’ moon and land straight in your nuts with how hard that beat drops.”

You crinkle your nose at him. “I wish you were asleep.”

Dave’s phone dings, quivering on the nightstand.

“Hey, I’m trying!”

You feel ready to scream with how incessant the interruptions seem to be.

“Well, try harder. And shut your goddamn phone off!”

Dave flips over and snatches his phone from where it dances, quickly silencing it as he returns to his previous spot, albeit with a little more space between you two. You frown. You ask who it is out of instinct.

“You know, just my hoes,” he replies noncommittally. You smack his head. “God, it’s Egbert, if you’d be so inclined.” He tries to unlock his screen, but with a swear he screws his eyes shut. “ _Fucking hell_. Can you get my shades? I feel like some straight boy playing COD and I’ve just been flash banged up the ass ‘cause I’m a fuckin’ schmuck who apparently can’t just close his eyes. Peek-a-boo, asshole! Your shit’s wack and I’ve got a bullet with your name on it.” You tell him to shut up.

As much as you’d prefer to lie in bed and also _not_ do what he (very annoyingly) wants, you also have an inclination to do as he asks. You find that you can’t help the burst of affection that accompanies every smile he gives you as he leaves you with a word of appreciation. You’re sure he doesn’t mean much by it, but every second of attention he gives you leaves you breathless and ragged. You’re pretty weak.

While you’re up, you hand him his shades from his desk, scoffing at his horrid use of finger guns (“Double pistols and a wink!” he says. Gross.), and make your way out to brush your teeth. There’s a chalky taste in your mouth and you don’t think you can stomach it much longer. As much as you love Dave, you can’t stand how long he can go without caving in and downing a bottle of mouthwash. (One of his worse traits, but god his _everything else_ sure does make up for it.)

He joins you in the bathroom as you rinse the foam from your mouth, wiping away the smears of toothpaste with the neckline of your shirt. You eye him up as he douses his toothbrush in water, focusing on the sliver of skin that accompanies a shirt riding up too high and a pair of boxers dipped down just a _little_ too low. If you were any more shameless, you’re sure that you’d keel over with how breathless he leaves you. (You come close to it, but with how long you’ve been dating, you manage to play it cool.)

Muscles tense and eyes snap upward once you feel Dave’s fingers settle on your waist. He’s pulling you closer, lips twisted in a laugh that sends a longing into the back of your throat, and you can’t help but lean into him—hands grabbing at his cheeks so you can melt into him, so you can breathe out an air of belonging. Far off, there’s an idle squeak on a tiled floor. You drift away with your thoughts.

 _Dave. Dave, Dave, Dave._ Your heart is a metronome with an increasing bpm as you lose yourself in his heat. He’s always been the warmer one in the relationship. His hands stay welcoming, his cheeks hold onto a haze that stain his skin pink, and his eyes hold a pool of magma that bores into your soul. Dave is the epitome of tenderness, even when he’s not trying to be. It’s in the way he calms you down after you find out you failed a test you’d studied countless nights for. It’s in the way he gives you some of his coffee even though you had insisted you were fine with nothing. It’s in the way he holds you so carefully as though you were ready to break into millions and billions and _trillions_ of tiny shards. You think that without Dave, you’d have combusted by now.

You’re lost, but you’re found, and you wander aimlessly in this hedge maze of an experience called love, but he’s right there beside you.

The feeling of bedsheets and the sound of creaking springs brings you back to life. (You always feel like you’ve lived an eternity in his arms, but it’s not enough. It’s never enough.) Dave smiles as he hovers above you, fingers clearing your eyes of unruly hair. His shades dip a little and you focus on the way his pupils dilate even with the mass of sunlight breaking through his room’s defenses.

 _I love you_ , you think. Dave giggles and you realize you said it out loud. You don’t care. “I love you so fucking much,” you repeat, this time with a consciousness that boosts your confidence—your lucidity.

“And I love _you_ ,” he confirms. His gaze flicks down to your lips, hungry and curious and barely sedated. You push his shades up before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down. Your face rests in the crook of his neck and you breathe in that scent that’s so thick and familiar and unnameable. “Karkat?”

 _I really needed this_. Time to unwind. Time to kick back. Time to keep things loose and free and oh so _warm_. You’ve never felt more secure.

If he were to get down on one knee right now, you’re pretty sure you’d know the answer.

A weight drops on top of you, though it’s nothing constricting. As tall as he is, Dave can’t seem to hold any weight to his bones. Rather, you think it’s focused in his heart with how giving he tends to be.

With how lenient he is with you.

You’re easily irritated. You’re loud. You say things you shouldn’t and you say things you don’t mean and you don’t say the things you want. You push people away and you cling to those you keep close and you can’t figure out why everybody hates you and you don’t know why you have so many people that love you.

You’re confused.

You’re hopeless and scared and vulnerable and you trust Dave Strider with your entire being because he makes you so happy that it _hurts_ and you’re left overwhelmed and ready to vomit whenever you think about him too much. He thinks it’s weird that you’re left to such extremes, but you say it’s just because you feel too much around him.

A hiccup escapes your stomach, quickly followed by a feeling of embarrassment that manifests in the form of fat globs of tears. Dave pulls away. You let him go, even though you want to hold him until the end of time.

“Don’t look a-at me,” you choke out. Your sleeves rub your eyes raw, drinking up every drop that rises.

Dave lifts his shades to rest atop his head. He grimaces, eyes squeezing shut, and you do your best to shield him from the pain. Your hands cup around his eyes. He smiles, irises inching out.

“Why’re you crying?” He talks in that country voice that you love, which is the very same one he hates. “What nonsense are you thinking about now, huh?” You feel like throwing up. With a shake of your head, you turn away, glancing over his turntables. “C’mon, spill your beans. A boy could go blind any second.” This time you cover his eyes completely, not wanting to deal with his ego he can’t seem to let go of.

“I’m thinking about you, alright asshole? About… us.” Your voice dies down, void of any bite, and you know that Dave knows it, too.

“You’re such a romantic,” he teases. “It’s cute.” Dave doesn’t move to break away, though you do feel his eyelids flutter beneath your hands as his gaze flickers around.

A door creaks within the confines of the apartment, though it’s drowned out amongst the hustle of the city as your arms grow weary and your heart grows heavy.

“And you’re annoying,” you fire back. “It’s terrible.”

“But you love me.” He’s smug. What a fool.

(You’re the fool.)

“Yeah, I do.”

A shutter sounds behind Dave, followed by a squeaky curse, and your face is scorched with humiliation as Dave slowly crawls off of you. He puts his shades over your eyes, and he keeps his squinted as he goes to face the offender.

You miss their conversation, far too invested in your own turmoil, but you pick up that John got here quite a while ago since Dave never texted him _not_ to come over.

Your cheeks are stained with your tears, marked with devotion and passion and a thousand other loyalties you hold toward Dave. He drives your very being. (Sometimes he drives you crazy in that head over heels sort of way, and other times he drives you up the wall. You can’t tell which you prefer since he’s always got that devilish smile on no matter what.)

As John is ushered out of the room, Dave kicks at your feet.

“I want to die,” you groan. You take comfort in the tint of the room around you, your weaknesses hidden behind a wall made for one but given to two.

“Mood.” You pick your head up, catching a vibrancy on his cheeks that mimics your own, and you realize that you’re both just two fools in love with nothing better to do.

John laughs from the hallway and you toss Dave his shades back as you run out, ready to send your plus one sprawling to the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love davekat !! ive recently started reading homestuck again and id die for karkat lol
> 
> you can find me at twitter where @karkatcore is my main and @davekatlovemail is my side homestuck acct!
> 
> **again, chapter 2 is just a rewrite in 3rd person!**


	2. fools in love (3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat Vantas is absolutely, inexplicably, irrevocably in love with Dave Strider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i made karkat rlly sappy so if that aint ur jam thats my b but !! i love being gay so by default he does too

It’s quiet in Dave’s room. The blinds do nothing to dissuade the morning light from filling the room as it pours onto the covers, spilling over until it prods at Karkat’s eyes and he finds himself blearily blinking away sleepiness. There’s a warmth that brings a sense of fulfillment; he’s practically brimming with contentedness. A smile graces Karkat’s lips, and he peers down at the boy currently wrapping himself around him.

Platinum hair fans out over pale skin, the slightest hints of freckles peeking out between strands. The rise and fall of Dave’s chest keeps like a steady beat, and Karkat easily keeps with it. Dave’s arms are lost beneath the covers, but he can feel him atop his chest, holding Karkat captive. (Karkat thinks if he were his prisoner, he’d definitely have stockholm syndrome.) His eyes flutter shut and he focuses on the shifting of Dave’s legs against his own. It’s getting a bit too hot for his liking, but he pushes through it if only to let Dave sleep for a bit longer.

(Not because he wants to memorize this moment or anything. No, if Karkat were to do that, he’s sure that a redness would never leave his cheeks because, oh yeah, he’s so fucking _in love_ _._ )

Relaxation doesn’t come by easy, what with countless school assignments, but when they’ve just started spring break with no assignments to keep up with? Well, that’s just heaven on earth.

(Heaven on earth is everything and anything Dave Strider, Karkat thinks, but he’s gotta tone it down sometimes.)

There’s the ringing of an alarm, and Karkat groans as he realizes _someone_ didn’t turn off his alerts for the week even when he told Dave to do it last night and he thinks it might be because he was trying to spite Karkat for making him watch 50 First Dates for the fifth time. Karkat’s already awake though, so joke’s on him.

Except he’s groaning too and pulling away and Karkat regrets his infatuation of spiting Dave for once in his life.

“Fuck this,” he mutters. Eyes shut, Dave reaches out blindly and almost knocks his phone off of his nightstand as he dismisses the alarm. When it stops blaring throughout the room, Dave sighs and scoots back over to Karkat, draping his arm across him. “I fucking hate school.”

“Yeah, well, it’s spring break, dumbass,” he teases. “Go back to sleep.” He likes the way Dave’s eyelashes flutter against his cheeks.

“Why’re you awake?” His words are a bit slurred as he leans against his chest, but Karkat hears him well enough.

“Hey, don’t drool on me,” he scolds. Dave shakes his head. “And your alarm woke me up, rude ass.”

“Hmmm… Liar.” Dave tilts his head up, and from where he lays, backlit by the rising sun pushing through shoddy window blinds, Karkat wonders if he’s ever looked more beautiful. He always seems so ephemeral, yet here he is, day after day. His right eye opens just slightly, and Karkat catches red as he smiles and said eye closes a little more as it crinkles with joy. “You just like to watch me sleep.”

Karkat rolls his eyes and uses his hand, the one that belongs to the arm Dave just so happens to be lying _on top_ of, and smooths down his hair awkwardly. “I like watching you wake up,” he specifies. Dave hums.

“Voyeur.”

“Oh, shut up and go back to sleep.”

“You just totally went against what you just said literally four seconds ago.” Karkat swats his head, and Dave laughs that angelic laugh of his that leaves him with an ache in his chest and a fluttering in his stomach.

God, he loves him.

“Then wake up,” Karkat huffs, “And we’ll watch another movie or something, because I’m not letting you draw your stupid comic all day.” With a roll of his eyes, Karkat turns his head to see if his laptop is on the floor like he vaguely remembers it being.

“If I have to watch another hetero couple mack in my personal space I’m going to blow my brains out,” he says, sticking his tongue out. He peeks up at Karkat again, and he holds his breath as Dave’s brows furrow. “Can we just be lazy today? It’s fucking spring break and I’m tired after that ass kicking I had in Precal the other day. I’ll be ready to take my tits out and do a keg stand tomorrow, so smash that notification bell so you know when to party.”

He nods slowly as Dave drags him closer, fingers reaching up to thread in Karkat’s hair. Dave is careful not to tug on any of his tangles, and in return Karkat reaches his own hand under the blond’s shirt to rest on his waist. He hisses as contact is made, and Karkat calls him a baby after he whines about how cold his skin is.

As more light continues to filter in, Karkat finds himself leaning into Dave once more. His breathing is smooth and even—a nice contrast from when the two first started going out. (Dave’s breath would often hitch as they grew closer, fingers intertwined as young boys whispered about the tragedies of the universe under a simple layer of polyester.) He gently nudges Dave’s face up, pressing kisses to his jawline and smiling when he loses himself to a sigh. Karkat moves further along and begins to make his way down his neck, lips lingering longer than necessary. He only stops when Dave’s grip hair tightens in his hair and Karkat’s own lips part in tandem.

“Go back up,” he whispers. Karkat throws his head back and barks out a laugh, goaded on by the eye roll Dave sends his way. “Babe.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he relents, fingers squeezing Dave’s waist, “I didn’t mean to go that far.”

“Mhmm, _okay_ _,_ ” Dave drags out. “Now, are you gonna go back to bed, or do you want me to whip out my remastered lullaby I mixed up just for you. That cow’s gonna jump over the fuckin’ moon and land straight in your nuts with how hard that beat drops.”

He crinkles his nose at him. “I wish you were asleep.”

Dave’s phone dings, quivering on the nightstand.

“Hey, I’m trying!”

Karkat feels ready to scream with how incessant the interruptions seem to be.

“Well, try harder. And shut your goddamn phone off!”

Dave flips over and snatches his phone from the surface, switching it to silent as he returns to his previous spot, albeit with a little more space between the two. Karkat frowns. He asks who it is out of instinct.

“You know, just my hoes,” Dave replies noncommittally. Karkat smacks his head. “God, it’s Egbert, if you’d be so inclined.” He tries to unlock his screen, but with a swear he screws his eyes shut. “ _Fucking hell_. Can you get my shades? I feel like some straight boy playing COD and I’ve just been flash banged up the ass ‘cause I’m a fuckin’ schmuck who apparently can’t just close his eyes. Peek-a-boo, asshole! Your shit’s wack and I’ve got a bullet with your name on it.” Karkat tells him to shut up.

As much as he’d prefer to lie in bed and also _not_ do what Dave (very annoyingly) wants, Karkat also has an inclination to do as he asks. Karkat finds that he can’t help the burst of affection that accompanies every smile Dave gives him as the boy leaves him with a word of appreciation. He’s sure Dave doesn’t mean much by it, but every second of attention he gives Karkat leaves him breathless and ragged. He’s pretty weak.

While he’s up, Karkat hands him his shades from his desk, scoffing at his horrid use of finger guns (“Double pistols and a wink!” he says. Gross.), and makes his way out to brush his teeth. There’s a chalky taste in his mouth and Karkat doesn’t think he can stomach it much longer. As much as he loves Dave, he can’t stand how long he can go without caving in and downing a bottle of mouthwash. (One of his worse traits, but god his _everything else_ sure does make up for it.)

Dave joins him in the bathroom as Karkat rinses the foam from his mouth, wiping away the smears of toothpaste with the neckline of his shirt. He eyes Dave up as he douses his toothbrush in water, focusing on the sliver of skin that accompanies a shirt riding up too high and a pair of boxers dipped down just a _little_ too low. If Karkat were any more shameless, he’s sure that he’d keel over with how breathless Dave leaves him. (He’s come close to it, but with how long they’ve been dating, he manages to play it cool.)

Muscles tense and eyes snap upward once he feels Dave’s fingers settle on his waist. Dave’s pulling Karkat closer, lips twisted in a laugh that sends a longing into the back of his throat, and he can’t help but lean into him—hands grabbing at Dave’s cheeks so he can melt into him, so he can breathe out an air of belonging. Far off, there’s an idle squeak on a tiled floor. Karkat drifts away with his thoughts.

 _Dave. Dave, Dave, Dave._ His heart is a metronome with an increasing bpm as he loses himself in Dave’s heat. He’s always been the warmer one in the relationship. His hands stay welcoming, his cheeks hold onto a haze that stains his skin pink, and his eyes hold a pool of magma that bores into Karkat’s soul. Dave is the epitome of tenderness, even when he’s not trying to be. It’s in the way he calms Karkat down after he finds out he failed a test he’d studied countless nights for. It’s in the way he gives Karkat some of his coffee even though he had insisted he was fine with nothing. It’s in the way he holds Karkat so carefully as though he were ready to break into millions and billions and _trillions_ of tiny shards. Karkat thinks that without Dave, he’d have combusted by now.

He’s lost, but he’s found, and he wanders aimlessly in this hedge maze of an experience called love, but Dave’s right there beside him.

The feeling of bedsheets and the sound of creaking springs brings Karkat back to life. (He always feels like he’s lived an eternity in Dave’s arms, but it’s not enough. It’s never enough.) Dave smiles as he hovers above him, fingers clearing his eyes of unruly hair. His shades dip a little and Karkat focuses on the way his pupils dilate even with the mass of sunlight breaking through his room’s defenses.

 _I love you_ _,_ he thinks to himself. Dave giggles and he realizes he said it out loud. e doesn’t care. “I love you so fucking much,” Karkat repeats, this time with a consciousness that boosts his confidence—his lucidity.

“And I love _you_ _,_ ” Dave confirms. His gaze flicks down to Karkat’s lips, hungry and curious and barely sedated. Karkat pushes his shades up before wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling him down. His face rests in the crook of Dave’s neck and he breathes in that scent that’s so thick and familiar and unnameable. “Karkat?”

 _I really needed this_. Time to unwind. Time to kick back. Time to keep things loose and free and oh so _warm_. He’s never felt more secure.

If Dave were to get down on one knee right now, Karkat’s pretty sure he’d know the answer.

A weight drops on top of him, though it’s nothing constricting. As tall as he is, Dave can’t seem to hold any weight to his bones. Rather, Karkat thinks it’s focused in his heart with how giving he tends to be.

With how lenient he is with Karkat.

Karkat is easily irritated. He’s loud. He says things he shouldn’t and he says things he doesn’t mean and he doesn’t say the things he wants. He pushes people away and clings to those he keeps close and he can’t figure out why everybody hates him and he doesn’t know why he has so many people that love him.

Karkat is confused.

He’s hopeless and scared and vulnerable and he trusts Dave Strider with his entire being because he makes Karkat so happy that it _hurts_ and he’s left overwhelmed and ready to vomit whenever he think about him too much. Dave thinks it’s weird that he’s left to such extremes, but Karkat says it’s just because he feel too much around him.

A hiccup escapes Karkat’s stomach, quickly followed by a feeling of embarrassment that manifests in the form of fat globs of tears. Dave pulls away. He lets him go, even though he want to hold Dave until the end of time.

“Don’t look a-at me,” Karkat chokes out. His sleeves rub his eyes raw, drinking up every drop that rises.

Dave lifts his shades to rest atop his head. He grimaces, eyes squeezing shut, and Karkat does his best to shield him from the pain. His hands cup around squinting eyes. He smiles, irises inching out.

“Why’re you crying?” He talks in that country voice that Karkat loves, which is the very same one he hates. “What nonsense are you thinking about now, huh?” Karkat feels like throwing up. With a shake of his head, he turns away, glancing over Dave’s turntables. “C’mon, spill your beans. A boy could go blind any second.” This time Karkat covers his eyes completely, not wanting to deal with his ego he can’t seem to let go of.

“I’m thinking about you, alright asshole? About… us.” His voice dies down, void of any bite, and he know that Dave knows it, too.

“You’re such a romantic,” he teases. “It’s cute.” Dave doesn’t move to break away, though he does feel his eyelids flutter beneath his hands as his gaze flickers around.

A door creaks within the confines of the apartment, though it’s drowned out amongst the hustle of the city as a pair of arms grow weary and a heart grows heavy.

“And you’re annoying,” Karkat fires back. “It’s terrible.”

“But you love me.” He’s smug. What a fool.

(Karkat's the fool.)

“Yeah, I do.”

A shutter sounds behind Dave, followed by a squeaky curse, and Karkat’s face is scorched with humiliation as Dave slowly crawls off of him. He puts his shades over Karkat’s eyes, and he keeps his own squinted as he goes to face the offender.

Karkat misses their conversation, far too invested in his own turmoil, but he picks up that John got here quite a while ago since Dave never texted him _not_ to come over.

His cheeks are stained with lasting tears, marked with devotion and passion and a thousand other loyalties he holds toward Dave. He drives Karkat’s very being. (Sometimes he drives him crazy in that head over heels sort of way, and other times he drives him up the wall. He can’t tell which he prefers since Dave’s always got that devilish smile on no matter what.)

As John is ushered out of the room, Dave kicks at Karkat’s feet.

“I want to die,” he groans.

“Mood.” Karkat picks his head up, catching a vibrancy on Dave’s cheeks that mimics his own, and he realizes that they’re both just two fools in love with nothing better to do.

John laughs from the hallway and Karkat tosses Dave his shades back as he runs out, ready to send their plus one sprawling to the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love davekat !! ive recently started reading homestuck again and id die for karkat lol
> 
> you can find me at twitter where @karkatcore is my main and @karkatlovemail is my side homestuck acct!


End file.
